


Prime Cut

by demented_queen



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gareth is a cannibal, Hitmen, Knife Play, M/M, Non ZA, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demented_queen/pseuds/demented_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick finds himself at the mercy of a hitman.</p><p>It's dark but has some elements of humor, because, hello, it's me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prime Cut

**Author's Note:**

> Just give this a try. And don't worry, just because I had the last chapter of Somethang Gareth centric, and now I did this, doesn't mean anything.
> 
> In fact, I'll be doing my act of contrition by posting the next update of my AmnesiacRick fic with some Rickyl loving.
> 
> Trust me.
> 
> I came back after all.

 

 

  
Rick's POV

 

 

 

Rick had to seriously contemplate now, at this juncture in his life, (and what was left of it) what decisions he had made, what forks in the road he had taken on the roads he had traveled, when he had gone right when he should have gone left or vice versa, that brought him to this very point in his completely fucked up life.

About how it was that he came to be hanging, half naked, (his jeans the only thing on him and how they were slowly inching down his hips) his hands chained above his head, dangling in mid-air in a dirty warehouse, while being circled around by the very devious young man who had just stopped to regard him.

A young man holding a very sharp, very large hunting knife.

A man whose nickname was enough to strike fear in anyone, from the the top mob bosses down to the lowliest of the bottom feeders, associated with the organized crime syndicates that graced the streets of Atlanta.

A man who earned his nickname which was, simply put, The Cannibal.

When Rick had first heard the name, he had actually laughed.

It was rather amusing in its simplicity. No rhyming name to go with it. Nothing. Just the one word.

Well, he wasn’t laughing now.

Despite the simplicity of the nickname, it did its job as it did _indeed_ instill dread in those who had come to know of him.

The young man had not come by way of the nickname as a metaphor.

It was a _literal_ translation.

But for those who were on a more intimate level with the man, for example, his family or his close, yet small, circle of friends or those who found themselves at the pointy end of his knife, like Rick himself, they knew him by his given name.

Gareth.

“I said, _Rick_ ,” Gareth said intently as he twisted Rick’s body toward him yet again as the chain was still twirling him around (and oh how Rick wished he hadn’t had that extra helping of bacon for breakfast) “a name. That’s all I want. A name. Then I’ll unchain you,” the young man continued as he paced around him again, “and let you just walk right out of here.”

“Fuck. You,” Rick managed to muster.

Rick started to feel his breakfast wanting to make a comeback.

Gareth didn’t let just anyone _walk_ out of anywhere.

The man was known to play with his 'food.'

Even if he let said ‘food’ go.

Rick knew this for a fact. His boss, the Governor, employed Gareth for many tasks. Not just for people he wanted to kill but for people he wanted to get information out of before he either had them executed or let them go.

Gareth was very good at his job whether it was to just scare people into talking or making people disappear.

That extra helping of bacon was most definitely lodged in his throat when Rick realized his boss had employed Gareth for that very reason now.

To get get him to talk.

To give Gareth, and in turn his boss, a _name_.

“Come on Rick. I know the name anyway,” Gareth said in a sing song voice. “All you gotta do is just say it. I really don’t wanna carve up that pretty face,” he said as he stroked the tip of the knife along one of Rick’s cheekbones.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” Rick let out breathlessly.

“Oh we’re gonna go for obtuse, are we?” Gareth said as he shook his head sadly.

The knife ran across Rick’s exposed belly, causing at first a terrified tremor to shake him, before a trill of something, Rick didn’t know what, to run along his spine.

He would address that kink again someday if there _was_ to be another someday that was.

For all he knew, he was to be hoisted up and hung upside down, Gareth slicing his throat open while his blood drained from his body, then carved up into different cuts of meat, his boss getting a prime cut while Gareth stored the rest for his own evil culinary delights.

Gareth stopped toying with the knife and looked up at Rick frankly. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t _actually_ enjoy doing this,” Gareth sighed.

“I was under the impression you _loved_ your job,” Rick spit out. “Probably whistle while you fucking work, you sick fuck.”

“Yeah well,” Gareth said as he flipped the knife casually, “gotta keep up appearances. Reputation, right? You know what I’m talking about Rick. You of all people know. A little taunting,” he said as he slid the blade over one of Rick’s nipples, causing him to shiver ever so slightly, “a little teasing, using an old warehouse, stained walls and floors, chains hanging from the rafters. It all goes a long way.” Gareth took a moment to look up at Rick sadly. “It’s not like I wake up in the morning and say, ‘Gee! I _love_ my job! Who do I get to eviscerate today!’”

And in that moment, while taking Gareth’s honest face in, Rick felt just the tiniest bit of sympathy for the man.

No, not sympathy.

 _Empathy_.

Because he knew very well what he meant.

Being one of the top two enforcers in the organized crime syndicate in Atlanta, working under the top most feared crime boss, the Governor, was a hard job to keep up with. You always had to have your game face on.

It was rare when you were able to just let it go and be you or at least someone who wasn’t you.

Someone who could lead a more carefree life.

But the moment of empathy was gone when he realized he was still chained up in a warehouse and he was about to get the same treatment all the other unfortunate people who had had the shit luck to cross paths with people like his boss and other bosses like him, people who had been hanging from the very same chains dangling from the rafters, looking at the same blood stained walls and concrete floors, ready to die because of some fucked up shit they had done, or because they knew something and they had information to give.

Which was Rick’s fate.

And it wouldn’t end well for him.

Because Rick was _never_ going to give him the name Gareth wanted.

Or point in fact, that the Governor wanted, Gareth only being his proxy.

“Rick,” Gareth continued with his tormenting of him as he placed the blade of the knife against his sternum. “I just want the name. It’s really easy. I’ll even say the name and you confirm it. You can say yes or just nod your head. You can do that head tilt... _thing_ you do. I need you to confirm it. Then we’re done.”

“Like you know the name,” Rick chuckled incredulously then sighed as the blade traced straight down his sternum.

“Dixon. Daryl Dixon,” Gareth said, staring raptly up at Rick.

Rick froze before opening his eyes wide in shock.

No! No! No No No No NoNoNoNo…

Gareth knew.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” Rick said, his bluff sounding lame even to his own ears.

How did this asshole figure it out when his boss, his _insane_ boss couldn’t even have figured it out.

His boss, who prided himself on knowing, or _seemingly_ knowing, everything that happened around him.

So Daryl and Rick had to be so very careful, so how did Gareth figure it out.

“I can’t use your increased heartbeat or profuse sweating or blown pupils as confirmation Rick,” Gareth said as he traced the blade over an exposed hipbone. “I need you to confirm it.”

Rick stared ahead, not looking down at the young man, not wanting to confirm anything with any emotion that could be shown on his face.

It was hard enough trying not to let Gareth see how much his blade against his skin was affecting him.

“Jesus fuck!” Gareth exclaimed as he chuckled darkly. “You must really love him. I know it’s him. Daryl.”

“You’re full of shit. You got nothing. You’re grasping for straws…” Rick babbled, a sigh escaping his lips as Gareth ran the blade over the other hipbone.

A dark look came over Gareth’s face.

It wasn’t amusement at Rick’s predicament.

It was _hunger._

Which wasn’t that strange for a cannibal. Then again, Rick was pretty sure Gareth wasn’t hungry as in the literal sense of the word.

This was something else.

Something much darker and more sinister.

“You like that huh?” Gareth whispered, a distinctive carnal edge to his voice. An obscene leer crossed his face.

That confirmed it.

“Gotta admit Rick. The way you’re all trussed you up here, I thought about it,” Gareth said as he continued to trace the blade across Rick’s abdomen. “I’m not blind. I see what Dixon sees. What the Governor sees…”

Philip.

That asshole.

Rick’s boss. His leader. His utter ruin. His eventual downfall.

His _lover._

And that was why he was in this whole mess to begin with.

Because the Governor’s two top enforcers, his two prized hit man, were having a secret affair with each other.

And Philip was an extremely jealous man.

Rick knew the minute he gave up Daryl’s name, he probably would be free to go.

Then Philip would have him right back in that madman’s den, sitting in front of that gruesome fish tank, Daryl’s head no doubt taking up special residence at the very top, the place Philip reserved for all his prized kills.

He would make him watch the head as he fucked him.

Probably Philip would sit in that barcalounger of his and have Rick ride his damn cock, not facing him, but making Rick sit the other way, facing the tanks, telling him to keep an eye on his dead lover.

Rick would be better off just dying here and now, on Gareth’s slab, in the end becoming a small package delivered to Philip in the form of the best cut of meat, the prime cut.

That was all Rick was now.

Hopefully the asshole would choke on it.

“Just give up the name Rick,” Gareth said in exasperation. “That’s all your boss wants. You both were stupid for getting into this mess. Did you really think you would get away with it? He wants someone to pay.”

“And I’ll be the one to pay," Rick said defeated, resigned to his horrible fate.  He looked intently back at Gareth, “just do it. Get it over with. Professional courtesy, yeah?”

Gareth looked directly at Rick before running the blade over his other nipple, Rick quaking in a full body shudder.

No hiding it that time.

“I think some play time is in order first,” Gareth smiled wickedly.

Rick watched as the young man grabbed a syringe full of something on the table next to all the other tools, Rick shuddering when he thought about what the young cannibal's 'tools' consisted of.

Gareth grabbed a fistful of Rick’s hair and hushed something soothing into his ear as he plunged the contents of the syringe into his thigh.

Before Rick blacked out completely, he could feel Gareth stroking his hand tenderly through his curls.

 

 

TBC

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think?
> 
> This is only going to be about 3 or 4 chapters long.
> 
> It was just something that had been rolling around in my head for awhile and I needed to exorcise it out! :)


End file.
